Bliss
by ChloeHeidrich1228
Summary: Ainsley Arwright is finally back in England after three months in the United States. She hasn't seen her best friends in so long, and who better to spend Christmas with than the ones she loves. She's known Dan and Phil forever, but will she finally figure out what she's been suppressing about one of them? Only time will tell. Rated M for language.
1. 18 December

**18 December**

In the distance, Big Ben chimed three o'clock. People bustled about the city of London, going about their business in the frigid air of mid-December London. The air was crisp and freezing, with the temperature sitting just above freezing, yet there was no snow. The sky was cloudless and icy blue, and the sun hung just above the skyline of the city, having already begun its descent.

Ainsley Arkwright shoved her Oyster Card back in her wallet, barely managing to avoid smacking her face into a lamppost as she did so. She walked briskly away from the Tube station toward a small cluster of houses in the south of London. She pulled her black and white checked muffler higher onto her face to guard her cheeks from the biting wind. Even though it was dangerously cold, Ainsley couldn't help but note how beautiful the city was. The sunshine danced off the shop windows, and the streetlamps were just beginning to turn on. She had missed London, but hadn't realized just how much until she was back in its welcoming embrace. Welcoming being the imperative word, as Londoners were notorious for ignoring each other.

Ainsley jammed her thumb onto the intercom button. It buzzed obnoxiously every time she touched it, and she knew she was annoying the apartment's inhabitants. The door swung open violently, revealing a pale, black haired twenty-six year old.

"You _do_ know you only have to press the intercom once, don't you?" he questioned, feigning annoyance.

"Well, yes, but I love annoying you." Ainsley smiled, laughing slightly as her American accent confused the man. She glanced at his wardrobe, and was pleased to see it hadn't changed in the two and a half months she had been gone. He still wore lion-themed shirts and his black skinny jeans. No, Ainsley didn't think Phil would ever change his wardrobe. "It's freezing tits out here, Phillip," she informed, pulling her red and black coat tighter around her.

"Oh, yes, I suppose it is." He stood aside, allowing her to enter.

"Where is he?" Ainsley questioned excitedly, kicking her galaxy-print high tops off just inside the door and beginning to run up the stairs, shedding her coat and tossing it back to Phil as she went. "Daniel! Where are you, Daniel?"

She heard the dark-haired twenty-two year old before she saw him. He squealed and she heard feet on the stairs above. He tore out of the lounge and nearly fell down the stairs in his haste. "Ainsley!" he yelled happily, stretching his arms out when she reached the landing of the stairs.

"Your neighbors probably hate when I'm here." She chuckled, hugging Dan. "So much shouting and running."

"They probably think we're having an orgy or something," Phil stated from the stairs.

"Well, I mean, Jesus Christ, it's been almost three months. Knowing you weirdos, it's been rather quiet 'round here lately." Phil and Dan laughed as Ainsley adjusted her black leather messenger bag on her shoulder.

Dan pointed to Ainsley's black and white Christmas jumper before motioning to his own black and grey one. They almost matched. "Nice jumper."

"Thanks. Yours is rather nice as well."

"Asos," he said haughtily.

"Oliver Bonas," countered Ainsley. Dan nodded in approval.

"Oh, God. He's worn off on you. What happened to buying your clothes at H&M or Primark?" Phil mumbled, exasperated.

Ainsley ignored him. "Well, come on, then. Into the lounge." She ushered the two into the room behind them, pushing them both onto the couch. Ainsley moved the table and sat on the floor in front of them, digging through her bag. "American presents time!" she sang happily, extracting four ornately wrapped packages from her bag. "Firstly, for Phil." She handed him the lumpiest of the four presents. "You know how my mum and dad moved near Washington DC?"

"Yeah. Like forty-five minutes away or something," he said as he began to remove the tape from the paper.

"Well, DC has this great little zoo, and one of the lions recently had babies." Phil grinned holding up a stuffed lion cub. "And they were _adorable_. But they were selling these plushies to raise money for the zoo and to help get like immunizations and stuff."

"It's awesome, thanks!"

Ainsley smiled and handed Dan a perfectly wrapped rectangle that contrasted greatly with Phil's lumpy stuffed lion. "It's heavy." Dan commented, tearing into the shiny golden paper. "What's th-" He cut himself off, inhaling sharply. "Dear Lord."

"What?" Phil questioned, craning his neck to see around the paper.

"You did not."

"What is it?"

"It's… I can't even articulate…. Aaah!" Dan fumbled for words, finally settling on leaning forward and pulling Ainsley into a bone crushing hug. "Where the hell did you find this?"

"We went to New York for a few days," she replied, shrugging. "There's this really nerdy place in Midtown Manhattan that had a shit-ton of this stuff. You like it?"

"Oh my God, I love it!"

"Seriously, what is it?"

"_The Art of Guild Wars 2_!" Dan announced, proudly holding up the hardcover art book.

Ainsley smiled at Dan's enthusiasm, tossing Phil a small box. "This took forever to find, but when I did, I just _had _to get it for you."

"I'm excited now." He beamed, but immediately looked confused when he tore the paper open, revealing a ring box. "Oh, Ainsley. I know we've been friends for a while, but I don't know if I'm ready for that sort of commitment."

"Oh just shut up and open it!" Under her breath, she added, "Git."

Phil did as instructed, and his eyes went wide. "Where in the world did you get this?" He pulled out a brass ring.

"I know how to shop," she answered simply.

"But the Ring of the Order of Teraka is… how?"

"Some things are better left unknown, my dear Phillip." Ainsley couldn't help but revel in her friend's amazement. She knew how much he loved Buffy, so when she had seen the prop, she couldn't pass up the opportunity. "Authenticity is under the foam, so you know." He nodded, still staring at the ring. Ainsley doubted he had understood. "And now, last but not least, Dan!" Ainsley handed him a long cylinder.

Silently, he removed the paper and opened the tube. Confused, he pulled out a One Direction poster. "Uh, thanks?"

"I figured you could put it in the bathroom. You know, to match the one in the toilet."

"Makes sense." He nodded. "It's really… uh… nice. Thanks, Ainsley." He looked a bit disgruntled that his final gift wasn't as mind-blowing as Phil's.

"You don't like it, do you?"

"No, no!" He tried to cover his disappointment. "No, it's great! It'll match perfectly! The bathroom really needed something like this."

"Oh, well, in that case, I suppose I can send your real gift back to mum and have her return it." Dan paused, staring at her. "But, that would cost so much for international shipping. I guess I could sell it to a shop here." The more she spoke, the wider Dan's eyes got. "But I would still be losing money. Hmm…. eBay is always an option."

"Or I could open it and we can pretend the One Direction poster never happened?" Dan suggested hopefully.

"Yes, we _could _do that…" she trailed off, 'hmm'-ing to herself, mocking thought and watching as Dan practically fell off his chair in anticipation. "Oh, what the hell! Why not!" She dug through her bag and produced a square crudely wrapped in the Sunday edition of the New York Times.

Dan took it and looked at it quizzically. "Couldn't be bothered to wrap this one nicely, as well?"

She shrugged. "Its awesomeness needed to be dulled. Think what you will." He began to open it, but Ainsley placed her hand over his. "Before you finish, I have a few stipulations." He nodded. "You can't ask where I got this, and you can't ask how much it cost. Deal?" Again, he nodded, chocolate eyes dancing with anticipation and excitement. Ainsley removed her hand and he ripped open the newspaper eagerly. The second he saw the orange corner of the CD's cover art, he gasped. Phil, now paying full attention to what was happening, leaned in closer to watch. "Oh, it gets better." Ainsley smirked.

Dan pushed a strand of his brown hair out of his eyes before continuing, pulling the paper off the rest of the way. He held up the CD, Muse's _The Origin of Symmetry_, eyes wide with excitement. Ainsley mouthed 'open it', and he did as he was told. A look of confusion crossed his face for a brief second before the realization of what he was holding sunk in. He shut the CD case quickly. "Shut up."

"What-?" Phil began, only to be cut off by Dan.

"You did not." Ainsley grinned sheepishly. "Shut up! Oh my God. This is better than Guild Wars 2!" He screamed and hugged Ainsley again, this time, practically tackling her to the ground. "This is the best gift ever. Call my mum. Tell her I died happily!" His words were bouncy as he attempted to hold back a giddy laugh.

"Is Matt Bellamy's autograph better than One Direction?" Ainsley questioned, Dan's arms still wrapped around her in a bone-crushing tackle.

"So much better." He moved back to the couch, still holding back an excited giggle. "Nintendo Sixty-Four!" he playfully added, raising his hands above his head triumphantly and revealing his excitement in a way that only a YouTuber would know how.

"Are you crying, Dan?" Phil questioned, looking at his friend.

Dan felt his cheeks. "I am a bit, yeah." He picked up the CD case and opened it again, finally letting his giggles out. "Ah! It's not even Christmas yet!"

"Yeah, I'd hate to see what you got us for Christmas!" Phil joked. Ainsley knew the boys weren't expecting anything for Christmas. Especially not after what she had given them today. But, if only they knew what she had planned.

**A/N: Hey, guys. So, I don't know if I'm even going to continue this story. It's just a random idea I had. If you really like it, though, I'll continue. Be sure to review/favorite/follow if you want to see it continued, or else I'll have no idea!**


	2. 23 December

**23 December**

Ainsley threw open the door to Dan's room and bounded in, taking a flying leap. She landed on top of the grey and white checked coverlet, the mattress bouncing wildly, but the boy did not wake. She began to jump, the mattress moving like a wave underneath her feet. Suddenly, a pair of arms locked around her waist, pulling her down to the bed. She screamed, not expecting Dan's surprise attack, or even hearing him wake. Dan had managed to quickly duck back under the covers again, but she could tell he was awake-his breathing was too calm, too exaggerated, for him to be actually asleep. No, he was definitely faking it.

Ainsley moved so that she was sitting on Dan's back. Gently, she began to rub his bare shoulders and neck. He led a stress-filled life, so Ainsley wasn't surprised when she found a huge knot in the muscle at the base of his neck between his spine and shoulder blade. He groaned softly as she pushed on his muscle.

"Too much?" she questioned, going back to gently massaging his shoulders. He mumbled something unintelligible, but Ainsley thought she heard 'no' in his string of speech. "You sure?" Dan waved a hand, motioning her to continue.

Her fingers moved back to the patch of muscle between Dan's spine and shoulder where he held his stress. Recalling what one of her university mates told her about massages, Ainsley tapped out a slow, flowing rhythm into Dan's back that slowly progressed in speed. Dan began to mumble along to the rhythm of her tapping.

"I'm sorry, you're speaking into a pillow," she told him, continuing to massage his back.

He turned his head so that his face was no longer buried in his pillow. "You're playing MCR. I'm singing." He paused, waiting for the third movement of the song before continuing to sing. "Do or die, you'll never make me, because the world will never take my heart. Go and try, you'll never break me. We want it all, we wanna play this part. I won't explain or say I'm sorry; I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar. Give a cheer for all the broken, and listen here, because it's who we are. I'm just a man, I'm not a hero. Just a boy, who had to sing this song. I'm just a man, I'm not a hero. I don't-"

"What are you doing?" Phil's voice in the door caused both Dan and Ainsley to jump. She scrambled off the bed and Dan groaned, groping for a Totoro plushie leaning against his side table.

"Jesus Christ, Phil!" Dan yelled, throwing Totoro at his innocent friend. He leaned up, holding his duvet to his chest.

"Ainsley woke me up a half hour ago!" Phil protested. "I'm just confused."

Ainsley beamed, having forgotten why she had woken Dan up in the first place. Now that it was back in her mind, however, she grabbed Dan's hands enthusiastically, pulling him sharply out of bed. He rolled his chocolate eyes and reached for the black shirt draped on the back of his desk chair.

"Why are we up at…" He glanced at the clock. "Nine thirty? Jesus Christ!"

"Get ready. Meet me in the kitchen in an hour," said Ainsley mysteriously, pushing past Phil and exiting Dan's room into the hallway.

"Why?" Phil poked his head into the hallway, but the mahogany-haired girl was nowhere to be seen.

Ainsley was standing beside the breakfast bar when Dan and Phil walked into the kitchen at ten thirty. Both wore their signature black skinny jeans. Both wore hoodies, Phil's being a festive Christmas zip-up and Dan's simply plain maroon.

"What Christmas eve-eve festivities require waking up at nine thirty in the morning?"

"And what smells of cinnamon?" Phil added, his nose in the air, attempting to find the source of the cinnamon smell.

Ainsley cleared her throat. "Table for Lester and Howell? Right this way." Confused, Dan and Phil followed Ainsley through their house into the lounge, where a square table had been set for three people. She motioned for them to sit. "The chef has prepared a lovely brunch for you this morning, that is to say, a festive French cinnamon bread with a cinnamon pecan syrup, Delia Smith's famous pancakes, and a cup of our house blend black tea. Enjoy." Ainsley smiled before exiting back into the kitchen.

"What's she on about?" whispered Phil.

"She's got something planned." The conversation died as Ainsley reentered, carrying a tea pot and two plates on a tray.

"Milk or sugar?" she questioned, pouring the black tea into the three cups. Both men shook their heads. "Then enjoy. Festive French cinnamon bread." She placed the large plate of green and red slices of toast onto the table between them, along with a decanter of syrup. "Cinnamon pecan syrup. And pancakes, courtesy of Delia Smith." Ainsley smiled again, placing the plate of thin pancakes. "The third member of your table will join you shortly."

"Ainsley's acting strangely," noted Phil after she had left the room.

"She's planning something," Dan repeated.

"Yeah, but what?"

"Knowing her, something over the top and extravagant that she spent too much money on."

"But she got us that stuff in America. What else could she possibly do?"

Dan shrugged just as Ainsley walked back into the lounge. "Good morning, Peasants," she greeted sarcastically, taking the third chair at the table. "Enjoying brunch? Or… Lunfast? No. Brunch."

"Did you make this?" Phil questioned, motioning to the half-eaten slice of green toast on his plate. Ainsley nodded.

"It's bloody fantastic!" Dan enthusiastically said, taking a drink of his tea.

"Well, boys." Ainsley's expression was suddenly somber and she got right to business. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here today."

"Actually, yes," answered Phil innocently.

"Well, it has come to my attention that we've never had a proper Christmas." Before Dan could protest, she continued. "Yeah, we've had Christmas, but never a real, proper Christmas. And being in America made me realize just how awesome Christmas is over there." She grinned widely. "So, today, for your festive pleasures…"

"Ooh." Dan grinned cheekily.

"We're going to be watching two of my favorite Christmas movies of all time: _It's a Wonderful Life_ and _Home Alone 2_." Phil and Dan looked pleased. "I've gotten some fantastic Christmas snacks and festive foods. And then, after the movies, we're going on a Christmas adventure."

"To where? It's like negative fifteen out there!" Dan glanced out the window in alarm.

"Hyde Park."

"We're going to Winter Wonderland?" Phil seemed awestruck.

The corner of Ainsley's mouth twitched up in a crooked smile. "Yes. Yes we are."

**Hey, guys, so... second chapter? I'm not sure if any of you actually wanted this, because no reviews or anything, but I figured I'd post it, since I had it finished. Don't forget to review if you liked it; it would mean a lot and it would definitely make it easier to write knowing someone was reading this.**


	3. 23 December, Evening

"Come on, you twits!" Ainsley called behind her, tapping her foot patiently as both Dan and Phil struggled to find their Oyster cards. "We're going to be late."

"Oh hush," Phil responded playfully, pulling his card out of his Astro-Boy wallet triumphantly just as Dan bounded forward through the gates.

Ainsley ignored her raven-haired friend, instead staring intently up at the call board. "Of course you're delayed. You're always delayed. You've been delayed since I moved here," she grumbled, plopping herself onto a bench.

Dan sat to her left. "We'll get there, Annie." Ainsley glared at him. She hated being called Annie, and it seemed he only did it when he was patronising her or poking fun.

She refused to talk to him for the rest of the trip to the park, but when they reached the gates of Winter Wonderland, she couldn't contain herself. "Okay. It is currently half past. What d'you want to do for fifteen minutes?"

"I vote candy floss," stated Phil happily, glancing around at the dozens of shops and food vendors around the park.

Dan opened his mouth, but his words were cut off by a scream. Two girls, younger than Ainsley, came running over to Phil and Dan.

"Oh my goodness," the taller one said. "You're Dan and Phil."

"Yes." The look on Phil's face caused the two girls to grin and giggle.

"I'm Ashley and this is Diana." The shorter girl waved a gloved hand. "We think you guys are the funniest people on the internet."

Dan laughed. "Really? Wow. That's a compliment."

He held his arms out and the girls hugged him, still giggling. They moved to Phil, hugging him tightly before stepping away slightly. Ashely smiled. "Would you guys sign our hats?" It was then that Ainsley noticed the girls' hats—a llama and a lion, just like the ones Dan and Phil had.

"Of course!" Phil grinned. "Do you guys have a Sharpie?"

The girls' faces fell. "No," Ashley said dejectedly.

Ainsley dug through her bag with one hand, tapping Dan's shoulder with the other. "Two Sharpies." She tossed one to Phil.

Dan looked at her in wonder. "Time Lord technology. You have everything in there." He turned back to Ashley and Diana, signing Ashley's llama hat and trading with Phil for Diana's lion.

"Picture?" asked Phil, handing Ashley back her hat.

Her eyes widened. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'm sure you guys just want to enjoy your holiday."

"Oh, one picture isn't going to hurt anything. C'mere." Phil and Dan moved together, preparing for the picture. "Ainsley, would you mind taking the picture?"

"Oh, sure." Ashley and Diana each handed Ainsley their phones and went to stand between Dan and Phil. She took a picture with each phone and handed them back to the girls. "We should probably be going, boys," Ainsley said softly.

"Oh, right, yeah." Phil nodded. "Of course."

"It was nice meeting you two," Dan added, giving the girls one last hug. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," they said in unison, starting to walk away. "And thank you."

The boys dropped the Sharpies back into Ainsley's bag. "So, where are we going first?" Phil questioned, grabbing her hand and beginning to drag her further into the crowd.

Dan, who had grabbed her other hand, glanced around. "Knowing you, ice skating, yes?" Ainsley nodded. "At four." Again, she nodded. "Then let's go."

Five hours later, Phil, Dan, and Ainsley sat in a private pod on the Winter Wonderland observation wheel, casually looking out over London.

"I don't know how much you paid for this," Dan began. "But I wish you hadn't."

"Yeah, you already bought us stuff from America. You didn't need to bring us here."

"No, but I wanted to. Christmas is special and life is short," said Ainsley finitely. "And come one, you guys know I always go overboard for Christmas."

Phil's phone started to ring just as they stepped out of the pod. He groaned. "It's the BBC. I've got to take it. I'll meet you back at the apartment." He groaned again before answering the phone and walking away swiftly.

"And then there were two," Ainsley whispered, wrapping her arm around Dan's as they began to meander through the wintry park. "What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Want to ride something?"

"I think we've gone on everything of note here," she reminded him.

"Play some games, then?" Ainsley shrugged, seemingly indifferent, but she was already pulling him toward a booth that had penguin pillows as prizes.

_As they walked the few blocks from the Tube to Dan and Phil's apartment, Ainsley and Dan talked. "What are you going to name it?"_

_She held the black and white penguin pillow out in front of her. "I was thinking something like Tatu or Taneli."_

_He laughed. "I now know why you don't want kids: Your naming skills are lacking." Ainsley stuck out her bottom lip, pouting. He squeezed her hand playfully. "Of those Taneli."_

_She grinned. "Taneli it is!"_

Dan stared at his laptop screen in surprise. He had been curious about Ainsley's choice in penguin names since she had proposed them, but hadn't felt comfortable asking his mahogany-haired friend about it. So, he spent an hour and a half in confusion as they talked in his room. When she fell asleep on his bed, however, he had sprung for his MacBook, opening Chrome and clicking the first link when he Googled 'baby name definitions'. Now, he couldn't believe what he was reading. Taneli and Tatu were Finnish names meaning the same thing: Daniel.

He glanced over at Ainsley, who was now completely tangled in his checked duvet. Moonlight spilled from the window and draped across her round face, making her look even more angelic than normal. Dan stood, taking pity on his sleeping friend and gently untangling her from the offending blanket. He stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock. 12:15. He shed himself of his shirt and crawled under the blankets. He had shared a bed with Ainsley many times before, even having to share with both her and Phil a few times at festivals and such, but this time felt different. Something in the pit of his stomach made him think twice about curling up under the blankets and wrapping an arm tightly around Ainsley. He pushed it off, however, as having had too much candy floss and the euphoria of Winter Wonderland still coursing through his system and closed his eyes, mentally embracing sleep.

**So, as I'm sure you can tell, I'm going to continue this until I run out of things to say, whether for my benefit or for others, I don't know. I hope you enjoyed this, and hit the 'follow' button if you really, really enjoyed this, as you'll be notified as soon as I post a new chapter. Thanks, guys.**


	4. 24 December

**24 December**

_Ding-dong._

Ainsley opened the door, using her other hand to towel her still damp mahogany hair. She had left Dan and Phil's only a few hours prior, and the first thing she did when she arrived back at her house was take a shower. She had slept peacefully, and that, coupled with her warm shower, put her in a wonderful mood.

"Why are you here?" she questioned her two six-foot-tall best friends.

Dan looked offended. "Yeah, happy Christmas to you too, Ainsley. Jesus."

Ainsley rolled her satin grey eyes and stood on her tiptoes, kissing Dan's nose. "Oh, you know what I meant," she mumbled, motioning the two inside. Phil coughed, kicking off his shoes, but Dan stood in the doorway, shuffling awkwardly. "Well, come on, then. Don't let the heat out." This seemed to jar Dan out of his thoughts and he apologized softly, shutting the door behind him.

"You aren't very festive this year," noted Phil, glancing around the apartment.

"I've been back for seven days, Phil. Four of those days I've spent completely with you twits. You expected me to be covered in Christmas here?"

"Yes," replied the raven-haired man innocently.

"Hey, you have your keyboard set up!" Dan called excitedly from the lounge. "And no tree. What is wrong with this picture? You love Christmas."

"It's still early!" Phil announced. "We could start working now, and have this place Christmas-fied in no time." Ainsley agreed. She could never resist Phil's innocent enthusiasm.

After filling the lounge with boxes upon boxes of Christmas baubles, tinsel, a tree, and other decorations, Dan approached Ainsley sheepishly. "Do you mind if we film this?" he asked. "I need a Christmas video." She shrugged, as if to say 'why should I care,' and he hugged her.

"The camera's in my room if you want to go get it. It's a little crappy, but it works.

Ainsley started to help Phil unpack some of the boxes and decorate the mantel of the fireplace as Dan disappeared to find the camera. Minutes later, he returned.

"You lie!" he exclaimed. "You said it's a shit camera."

"Because it is," Ainsley insisted, draping silver tinsel from the wooden slab above the hearth.

"This is a fucking £1,300 camera. This is not shitty." He waved the Canon camera around for emphasis. "Jesus Christ, I'd hate to see what they're using at Kingston if you think this is a shitty camera." He continued to rant as he set the camera onto a tripod. As soon as he hit the record button, however, he immediately went to danisnotonfire mode, instantaneously becoming the internet cult leader he was famous for being. "Hey, internet!" he greeted, beginning his video introduction.

"Dan, what are you doing?" Ainsley questioned, interrupting him. "That angle is terrible."

"Well, what do you suppose I do about it?" he spat playfully. "I'm sorry, internet. I'm being rude. Meet Ainsley." He pulled her into the frame. "She's my friend. Do a friend dance?" The two began to dance awkwardly for a few seconds before stopping. "Oh, and Phil's here too."

"Hi!" Phil called from the background.

"Your angle is still crap," Ainsley informed him, moving to the tripod. "I'm going to touch you." She looked directly into the camera lens before picking the entire tripod up and moving it a meter to the left. "Much better."

"Don't touch the internet like that!" Dan protested, running over. "I'm sorry," he whispered, getting closer to the lens. "I know someone you can call to talk about it. You pervert!" His last exclamation was directed at Ainsley.

"Dan, we're guests!" Phil reprimanded.

"Oh. Right. We're at Ainsley's house, yay!" Dan smiled cheekily. "And we're decorating for Christmas…. On Christmas eve."

"Only because she's been in America for like a million months," added Phil, pulling tree baubles and decorations from a box.

"Phil, dear?" Ainsley grabbed a few of the decorations from his hands. "You do the _tree_ first. _Then_ you do the decorations." He giggled softly, repacking the box.

"So, Christmas, yeah. Let's get to it!" Dan snapped his fingers and danced over to the tree box.

"Does this need constructing?" Phil questioned, opening the box. "Because that went well last year."

"It does, but let the master handle it, yeah?" Ainsley pulled the four trunk pieces out and began to put them together.

"Jesus Christ, how tall is this tree?" Dan questioned, taking the trunk from her.

"Eight foot." She grinned at his shocked expression. "Fun fact. I love real Christmas trees, but I'm allergic to pine."

"But if you love real trees, why don't you buy one?" asked Phil obliviously.

"Because I'm allergic to them," Ainsley repeated sardonically. "Hand me the five blue branches." She held out her hands.

It only took Ainsley ten minutes to assemble the tree. Dan and Phil were, as she expected, little help, and basically had limb fights as she put the evergreen together. Once the limbs were all in place, Dan and Phil fangirled over the fairy lights she had bought three years ago that twinkled blue and white.

"Is it can be decorating time?" Dan questioned, moving closer to Ainsley and holding his hands up to his chin like a squirrel, batting his eyelashes.

"If you stop making that gormless face, yes." He stuck his lip out, pouting slightly. "Oh, stop, you twit." He puffed his lip out more, slowly batting his eyelashes. Ainsley spread her fingers and pushed against his cheek with her palm, turning his head slowly. "Stop being waffly!"

"Hey, I bought you this!" Phil exclaimed, already having started to decorate the tree. He held out a glass heart with a cartoon baby lion on it. "The Christmas before you moved to America."

"You said your parents made you get it." Ainsley laughed. "But it was all you. Sixteen and you were still the sweetest kid."

He smiled. "Actually shut up." He hung the ornament on a branch near the top. "I bought all my friends ornaments that year."

"He still buys most of his friends ornaments," whispered Dan to the camera.

"Hey, Dan, didn't you buy this one?" Ainsley dangled Winnie the Pooh holding a stack of blocks in front of his face.

"What? No!"

"You sure? Because it says 'love Dan' on the box." Phil grinned.

"And I specifically remember you saying 'it's like us' when I opened them." Ainsley pulled the Tigger ornament out of the box Phil was holding. "Because I'm the hyper one and you're the oh bother one."

Dan's cheeks slowly tinted pink, but Ainsley couldn't tell if it was because he was warm in his jumper or from embarrassment. She assumed the latter and poked his nose.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed. It's cute."

Yet again, Phil drew attention away from Dan and Ainsley. "I really like the theme of your baubles." He held a box up to the camera. "They're pokeballs!"

"I have a box of Hiyo Miazaki ones in there somewhere, too." She grinned. "Totoro everywhere!"

"If someone were to look at your tree, I'm sure they would automatically assume you were six." Phil pulled a Pikachu ornament from its box.

"Mentally, she is." Dan laughed as he was hit in the head by a pillow from the couch.

Decorating the tree took four hours, with Dan and Phil fighting and throwing things at each other, and Ainsley making fun of them both. She figured she could have done it in less time without them, but she appreciated her friends being there; it made her night less boring.

"Is it can be present under tree time?" Dan questioned childishly.

"What." Ainsley had no idea where her best friend came up with half the things he said.

"Is it can be time to put presents under teh tree?"

"I mean, if you want. I don't have anything, really. Just two boxes. Sort of pathetic, really."

Phil, who Ainsley hadn't realized had disappeared, reentered the lounge, carrying three wrapped boxes. "We've got these." Ainsley rolled her eyes. Of course they had brought presents. Dan and Phil weren't the types to ignore giving gifts.


	5. 24 December, Evening

**24 December**

"It is completed!" Phil announced, placing the final strand of tinsel across Ainsley's television.

"It's about time." Ainsley sighed, feeling herself sink deeper into the couch. "You've been messing with that single strand of tinsel for twenty minutes."

"It just wouldn't hang right!" he protested. "It had to be perfect."

"Perfection, my dear Phillip, is impossible. One can come close, but can never achieve it."

Phil was silent for a moment. "Well, that was depressing."

Ainsley shrugged, turning her attention to the uncharacteristically silent Dan, who was using her laptop to edit the video he had shot. "You've been awfully quiet, Mr. Howell," she noted, moving so that she was standing behind him. "Nothing to say, or are you using my laptop to watch kinky porn?"

"Oh, yeah. Definitely the porn," he replied sardonically as she, once again, began to rub his shoulders.

"This is becoming a daily occurrence," Phil mumbled awkwardly. Immediately, Ainsley stopped and took a step away from Dan. "When you're done editing, let's do something fun!" Phil suggested, attempting to diffuse the now awkward moment.

"I thought decorating was the fun event of the night."

"No, that was the 'Dan needed a video for his channel' event of the night. Now we need to do something fun!" Phil grinned. "And film it and put it on our channels."

"Because you need a Christmas video too?"

"No, because I think it'll be fun. Come on! We can do the best friend tag!"

Ainsley groaned. "No, Phil, those videos are so pointless." Phil and Dan both stared at her blankly. "Oh, bloody hell, fine."

Dan finished editing his video quickly and Googled the questions to the best friend tag while Ainsley set up the camera again.

"This is stupid," Ainsley complained as Dan his record and the three sat on the floor together.

"Hey, internet!" Dan greeted, ignoring her. "So, happy Christmas! Phil, do a Christmas dance!" The blue-eyed man obeyed, twirling the strand of tinsel that he had draped around his neck three hours prior like a scarf. "So, we're doing three videos for Christmas, featuring me and Phil's best friend Ainsley, whom you may recognize from my video yesterday." Ainsley waved cheerfully. "So, in case you couldn't tell from the title, we're doing the best friend tag."

"Let's get started," Phil said darkly.

"When and how did you meet?" Ainsley read from her laptop. "I met Phil when I was ten and he was thirteen."

"She likes them old," Dan whispered loudly. Phil hit him.

"We were neighbors, and we went to the same school and our mums worked together. I moved to America when I was thirteen. Jump to university, where I studied here in London at Kingston for Filmmaking. I met Dan one dreary Saturday about a year ago—dreary because it was raining, not because I met Dan, mind you—when they were apartment hunting."

"And here we are," Dan concluded, already looking for the next question. "Some of these are really stupid. Skipping them. Okay. Describe each other in one word. Wow. That's really hard." He thought for a second. "Let's make it two sentences or less, yeah?" Both Ainsley and Phil nodded. "I'll describe Phil. Phil, describe Ainsley, and Ainsley can do me." She coughed. "Oh. That sounded wrong, didn't it? You know what I meant." He sighed. "Phil is goofy and fun, but he's super annoying to be around, too. I dunno."

Phil glared at Dan before speaking. "Ainsley is…. Hm… Ainsley is the single most hyper human being to ever be alive, and I didn't think I would miss it as much as I did when you were in America."

She grinned sheepishly, considering her response. "Dan is so awkward in real life," she began, causing Dan to look at her strangely. "He bumps into things constantly, and even though you imagine that he's cool and he's just putting on an act for YouTube, he's actually the biggest dork I know." He looked at her, slight offense showing in his chocolate eyes. "But he makes me smile when I'm upset, and he can always cheer me up; I love him."

Dan grinned cheekily. "Aweh, thanks." He wrapped his arms around her tightly.

Phil cleared his throat. "Next question: Who is most likely to get drunk?"

"Well, that's an easy one," Dan answered laughing. "It's obviously Ainsley," he said, just as Ainsley was saying, "Clearly, it's Dan."

"What? I am not most likely to get drunk, Mr. 'Guys, go drink all the cocktails, they're yummy'!"

"Oh, this coming from the girl that orders a drink everywhere we go."

"Because I go out _so_ much."

"Guys!" Phil practically shouted, breaking up the argument. "You're both alcoholics." After a moment of silence, the three broke into deep laughter.

"Next question!" Dan said finally, his laughter dying down.

"Facebook, Twitter or Tumblr?" Ainsley read a question from the bottom of the list.

"Tumblr," they answered simultaneously.

"Most attractive body part. Let's let the girl answer this one, shall we?" Dan grinned deviously at Ainsley, who was already deep in thought.

"Well, Phil's eyes, obviously," she replied. "And… smile for a second?" Dan did as he was told. "Yeah, good. Keep smiling." Ainsley stood and grabbed the camera from the tripod, bringing it closer to Dan's face. "You see that?" She pointed to the dimple on Dan's cheek. "I know most of you girls agree with me when I say that that right there is the most attractive thing in the world."

They continued answering the stupid questions of the best friend tag until they had well over half an hour of footage. "It doesn't need editing!" Dan insisted. "It can go on Phil's channel. He does a lot of unedited stuff."

"Oh, yeah. Give me the 'stupid' video," Phil complained sarcastically.

Ainsley rolled her eyes at the fact that he was clearly mocking her. "Now what are we going to do?"

"Well, we thought we could do your make-up," mumbled Dan. "Or you could do ours."

"Lawl, no. I don't own make-up other than eyeliner."

"Then… twitter questions? We could play truth or dare," Phil suggested.

"Yes. Let's play a game for seven-year-olds," Ainsley replied.

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I was being serious, Phil!" She grinned. "Go on, tweet, boys, tweet like your lives depend on it."


	6. 25 December

**25** **December**

"_Oh, Jesus Christ. Okay." Ainsley took a deep breath and read the paper she pulled out of Dan's llama hat. "'If you had to pick, would you rather be in a romantic relationship with Dan or Phil?' Twitter is full of nosy little buggers, isn't it?"_

"_Answer the question!" Phil playfully demanded, staring at her with his 'intense face'._

"_I-but-what? No. Why would I-"_

"_You have to answer it, Ainsley," Dan reminded her, smiling deviously._

"_I dunno. Dan, maybe?" Phil stuck out his bottom lip. "I said I dunno! Jesus Christ!" She buried her face in the Totoro pillow in her lap._

"_Is Dan your final answer?" Phil questioned._

"_Yeah, I guess."_

"_There you have it, Internet. She picks Dan."_

_She picks Dan._

_Dan._

Dan

Ainsley's eyes shot open and she sat up quickly, glancing around her room. Her plasma bulb the desk cast a purple glow over everything. She could see Dan sleeping on the couch bed on the other side of the room, and Phil sleeping on the pile of pillows he had amassed and wedged between her desk and the wall. Her bedroom was large, but it was the only one in the house.

She groped for her mobile on the bedside table and checked the time. 5:30. Ten Twitter notifications. Ainsley groaned and opened the app, assuming it was just her mother in America attempting to tweet. Unfortunately, it was not the case. Ever since Ainsley had appeared in a few of Dan and Phil's videos at the beginning of the summer before her trip to America, their fans had slowly started to follow her on Twitter, so it wasn't unusual to see a person she didn't know posting about her. Ainsley rubbed her eyes and casually scrolled through the messages—four in particular caught her attention:

_It looks like Phil has some competition._

_Guys, does this mean no more Phan?_

_I KNEW he wasn't gay! Get it girl!_

_Dansley, anyone? Anyone? Anyone? No? Just me? Okay. More for me._

Ainsley stared at the last tweet in shock. Part of her wanted to scream. Part of her wanted to wake Dan up just to see his reaction.

Part of her, a tiny, miniscule part, enjoyed the fandom's name and reveled in being someone's OTP with Dan.

But another part, the more sane part, repressed the enjoyment, and the need to scream, and the need to wake Dan up. This part was confused, both by the fans' reactions and her apparently budding feelings for Dan, and exhausted, and merely wanted to sleep. The tweets would still be around in the morning, it rationalized.

Her eyes now closed, Ainsley groped around on her bedside table until she found her iHome and replaced her mobile, allowing unconsciousness to overcome her once again.

When Ainsley was exhausted, she dreamed in music, and this was no exception. While she had been in America, she and her parents had gone to see a few musicals on Broadway, but Ainsley had been disappointed to discover her favorite, _Next to Normal_, had closed.

Ahead of her, she saw Dan, dressed rather nicely. She made to move toward him, but stopped after a few steps to look down and examine her attire: A navy strapless dress with a diamond-accented corset and a tendril high-low skirt. Deciding she looked okay, she continued toward Dan.

He beamed when he saw her, the dimple in his cheek appearing. "Hey."

"Hey." Ainsley suddenly noticed her anxiety. It was just Dan, though, why was she nervous? Of all the people in the world, Dan was the last person she needed to feel anxious in front of. He was, after all, her best friend.

"You look like a star." He examined her dress. "A vision in blue."

"Oh, I do?" She smiled half-heartedly.

"And you are. Hey," he began, as if just realizing something. "You came."

"Well, I said that I might."

"I thought we were through, me and you."

Something in the back of her head was confused. She had the urge to question him, but instead, she whispered, "Not tonight."

"Will your mum be okay?"

She sighed. "Well, she might be someday."

"But for now, it's all fine?"

"She's still on my mind." His pressing began to frustrate her. Perhaps she shouldn't have come after all.

"Can you leave it behind?" Ainsley closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She turned to walk away, but Dan caught her wrist. "Stay, hey. Let's see this thing through."

"Am I crazy?" she questioned softly, spinning to face him. "I might end up crazy."

"I'll be here for you."

"Yeah, you say that right here, but then give it a year, or ten years, or a life." Her eyes widened. "I could end up your wife. Sat staring at walls, throwing shit down the stairs, freaking out in the store, running nude down the street, bleeding out in the bath-"

Dan's hands on her shoulders silenced her. "I could be perfect for you. You could go crazy, or I could go crazy, it's true. Sometimes life is insane, but crazy, I know I can do. Crazy is perfect, and fucked up is perfect. And I know I could be perfect for you." Dan's gentle smile was contagious, and Ainsley found herself smiling in spite of herself. Slowly, he leaned in, resting his forehead on hers. His lips were so close to her own that she felt his gentle breathing tickling her face.

The dream started to evaporate as Ainsley felt herself waking up again. She groaned and attempted to roll over, back into sleep, but a firm hand on her shoulder prevented her from moving.

"Wake up, Ainsley!" It was Phil. "It's Christmas."

She opened one eye and glared at her blue-eyed friend. "Holidays mean sleeping in, Phil. Didn't you know?"

"If you sleep in any longer, it won't be Christmas. It's eleven o'clock."

"Go away." She pulled a pillow over her face.

The pressure on the side of the bed disappeared, and Ainsley heard the door being pulled slightly shut as Phil left. Sighing, she relaxed and attempted to fall back to sleep. Seconds later, however, she heard the door open with a light creak and footsteps padding across the floor to her bed. The pressure on the side of the bed returned, and Ainsley felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, Love, wake up," Dan coaxed, rubbing her arm softly. "It's Christmas. Don't you want to get up for Christmas?" He spoke soothingly and smooth.

"It'll be Christmas all day," she protested.

"Ainsley, what's wrong? You never miss Christmas."

"I don't want to get up."

"Why not?"

"Because Twitter," she blurted before considering her answer. She sighed inwardly and buried her face deeper into her pillow cave.

"What has Twitter done now?" He was used to her complaining about social media. She could feel him shift to get his mobile out of his pocket. Ainsley held her breath, waiting for his reaction. Soon, he chuckled. "That's why you don't want to get up? A fandom."

"Not just a fandom, Dan," she mumbled, allowing the pillow to slowly slide off her head. "_Your_ fandom. One of the craziest, over-protective fandoms that isn't Sherlock related."

She could almost hear him roll his eyes. "They're just a fandom, though. They like to have fun and photoshop flower crowns on my head. They like to photoshop me with make-up on. They like to obsess over the little things. In time, it'll pass." He patted her back. "Now, come on. Christmas morning is almost over, and damnit, we have presents to open."

**A/N: FYI, I'm not hating on the fandom/phandom. I love our little group of obsessed weirdos led by the incomparable Daniel J. Howell. I just… if I had to put up with us, I'd probably die.**


	7. 28 December

**28 December**

"Happy birthday, Ainsley!" Dan cheered, doing what he called 'the birthday dance of extreme awesome'.

She rolled her eyes. "Stop that. We're in public. You look like you're having a stroke."

"But the world should know it's your birthday," stated Phil, taking a sip of his bubble tea.

"Well, Jesus Christ, I think it knows by now." She sighed, leaning against one of the walls surrounding the now half-frozen fountain at Trafalgar Square. "You've been telling everyone. Even Twitter, which was probably a mistake, because they're all confused about me at the moment."

"It's Twitter. They're always confused," replied Dan, having finally finished his dance.

Ainsley rolled her eyes, absentmindedly playing with the bracelet Dan had gotten her for Christmas three days ago. 'You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think' it read.

"You know," Dan whispered from directly beside her. She hadn't noticed him move closer. "You never said if you liked it."

"I do, yeah. I like it." She held up her wrist, showing off the gold bangle, along with the three ribbon wristbands from Reading Festival. "It's a great contrast."

"You don't like it," he said softly.

It wasn't that she didn't like the bracelet, she did. She just wasn't expecting it. "No. I love it. I do. I just… it must have cost a fortune."

"Oh, you act like you aren't worth it," Phil interjected.

"I'm not! You could spend your money on more important things. Like saving the polar bears. Or, I don't know, food."

"Says the one that spent £1,000 easily on _us_ for Christmas."

"Yeah, come on, _Annie_." Dan grinned devilishly. "I'm allowed to spend money on you once in a while. In fact, I think it's time we get you home."

"What? Why? I thought we were having a day of my birthday." Silently, Dan and Phil pulled Ainsley through the streets and into the Tube.

At her doorstep, the three said their goodbyes and Dan and Phil left. Confused, Ainsley unlocked her door and entered her apartment. She stepped on something the second she got in the door. Curious, she picked up the dark blue envelope. The front read 'READ ME' in Dan's sloppy-yet-legible handwriting.

_Ainsley_

_If all goes well, and I'm assuming that because you're reading this, Chris came through and delivered this letter while we were out today. Happy birthday, by the way. I'm sure I haven't said it enough. You spent last year stressing about school, so this year, since you've graduated, I have some very special things planned. Don't worry. None of them are illegal lol. Tonight, I'll be picking you up at five. Be ready. Wear something nice, but not too fancy. Maybe that jumper Phil bought you. See you then!_

_Love, Dan_

Ainsley stared at the paper, blinking and processing what she had just read. It was currently three thirty. She sighed and walked into her bedroom, digging out the black and white striped jumper Phil had given her three days ago. She stared at the giraffe sewn into the centre of the chest. Phil had loved the sweater. She thought it was cute, but would never wear it anywhere. But now she had to. She sighed inwardly, grabbing a pair of black skinny jeans and the jumper.

At five, the doorbell rang, and Ainsley stepped into the frigid December air. She wrapped her arm around Dan's as they walked to the Tube.

"So, Mr Howell, where are we going?"

"We are going out to dinner. And then another surprise, which will wait until after." He beamed.

"Is Phil joining us there?"

His happy expression faded as quickly as it had appeared. "No. No Phil. No Chris. No PJ. Just us."

Just herself and Dan. Ainsley liked the idea. "Sounds refreshing."

Dan chuckled. "What? Having Phil not connected to our hips? Yeah. Refreshing isn't exactly the word I would use."

She rolled her grey eyes. "You love him just as much as I do." Again, Dan grinned. "So, what restaurant are we headed to, my lovely companion?"

"Lovely companion?" He raised an eyebrow, stupid grin still plastered on his face. "This place over in the West End. The Spaghetti House."

"Oh."

"Oh, don't tell me you don't like Italian."

"No, I love Italian." She squeezed his arm gently. "I love Italian. Really. I do."

The Tube was packed, as usual, and there was barely any room in the carriage, but Dan insisted they take it. Ainsley clambered on after her dark-haired friend, and they stood near the doors. Ainsley was squashed between a fat German man in his mid-forties who smelled like he had bathed in his aftershave and Dan, who had one arm firmly around her waist protectively and one hand gripping the metal bar above them. Even though Dan and Ainsley stood extremely close, and his mouth was practically level with her ear, it was hard to hear any semblance of conversation they attempted to have, so the two stuck to standing in silence. Ainsley would have missed her stop had Dan not been standing so close to her. He practically pulled her off the train and out into the queue of steadily moving people.

At the restaurant, they were taken to their table quickly. Ainsley stared at the menu blankly, searching for food she could eat without having an allergic reaction to the gluten. Luckily, she saw the note at the back of the menu alerting her attention to the gluten free pasta the restaurant offered. When she ordered, she made sure to ask for the gluten free option.

Dan's eyes went wide when the waiter had gone. "I'm so sorry." She raised an eyebrow, confused. "I brought you to the fucking gluten kingdom. I must seem like the biggest twat in the world right now."

The corners of her mouth twitched up. She could see he was upset by his mistake. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "It's fine, you twit. Just as long as your second surprise doesn't involve shellfish, I won't be mad at you."

As they ate, Dan and Ainsley talked, something they were used to doing with Phil. But, Ainsley had to admit, she enjoyed being alone with Dan. She loved talking to him. She loved listening to his poorly delivered jokes that somehow made her laugh anyway. She loved how she could talk to him about anything, and not only would he listen, but he wouldn't repeat it to anyone.

"So, what was your favourite part about today?" Dan questioned innocently, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the low ambient lighting.

"Oh, I don't know. So far, it's got to be this."

His face seemed to grow slightly pink. "Oh really?" Casually, he nursed his glass of wine. "Are you sure about that?"

"So far, yes. But I have the worst feeling that you have something spectacular planned."

"Oh do you?"

She nodded. "You always try to do something over-the-top. You and Phil both."

He grinned deviously. "Well, if you're expecting a helicopter ride across London, you're not thinking big enough."

"Oh God." She smiled as he put his hand into the breast pocket of his red and black checked flannel shirt. "What is it?"

"No. You have to guess."

She groaned. "I'm terrible at guessing. Is it bigger than your butt?"

"Are you implying my butt is large?" They laughed. "Okay. Hint. Hint hint hint. Hm. When you went to America, you missed it by three months."

"What the hell sort of hint is that?" She groped for the envelope. Dan played keep away for a few moments before taking pity on Ainsley's shorter arms and handing it to her. She tore open the envelope and, in seeing its contents, her eyes widened. "What. No."

"Nintendo Sixty-Four?" Dan questioned, smirking.

"Oh, better than a Nintendo Sixty-Four. Tickets to fucking Book of Mormon are so much better than a Nintendo Sixty-Four."


	8. 28 December, Late Evening

**28 December**

"Hello! Would you like to change religions? I have a free book written by Jesus!" Dan quoted playfully, holding out his program to Ainsley as they walked toward the Tube.

"No, no, Elder Howell," she chided, pushing the program away. "That's not how we do it. You're making things up. _Again_. Just stick to the approved dialogue."

Dan fell into a fit of laughter. "That was fantastic." Casually, he slipped his hand into Ainsley's, their fingers interlocking automatically. They fell into step together, and continued to walk, passing the Tube entrance as they went.

"Weren't we…?" Ainsley trailed off, turning her head to watch the red circular sign disappear into the other lights of the London night.

"Yeah, but I decided against it. Let's just walk back, yeah?"

She groaned. "Dan, it's already an hour on the Tube. Do you know how long it would take to walk to Wimbledon?"

He shrugged. "We'll get on eventually. I just wanna walk a bit."

They walked in a semi-silence, the cold winter wind whipping at Ainsley's hair. As they entered Hyde Park, a fine, sparkling mist of snow began to drift down from the heavens. Ainsley looked up. She loved snow, she had ever since she was a child. In England, snow was a rarity, something special and sacred that happens but a few times a winter. When she lived in America, though, snow became even more of a blessing. It fell in heavy blankets starting as early as October where she had lived, and it was there that she first played in the snow. She experienced her first glorious Snow Day, and built her first snow fort with her father. To most, the cold white flakes were a nuisance—something that needed to be scraped off car windows, and shovelled off pavements and roadways. To Ainsley, snow was magical, beautiful, and a bit mysterious.

They stopped at the edge of the lake. Across the lake, Winter Wonderland was starting to wind down.

"Happy birthday, Ainsley," Dan whispered, brushing snow out of her hair gently.

Ainsley smiled gently. "Thanks, Dan." Their eyes met, and for the first time, Ainsley noticed Dan's chocolate eyes. They weren't solid brown, but in the far-off light of the winter carnival, she saw the gold and bronze flecks around the irises. She suddenly was hyper aware of his presence. Ainsley had always known Dan was attractive, his personality making him doubly so, but in that moment, he was more charming, more beautiful than Matt Smith or even Adam Levine.

A voice in the back of her mind told Ainsley she was staring, but when she tried to look away, her eyes gravitated back immediately. She felt her face grow warmer as she realised that Dan was no longer studying her. No, he was staring, and he was making a more obvious show of it than she was. His eyes were full of something—desire, perhaps, or confusion—that Ainsley couldn't quite identify. Before she knew it, she was leaning forward, and their lips met. It was a hasty decision, she had to admit, but she hadn't been able to resist the temptation.

Dan didn't react. He didn't respond. He didn't pull away. He merely stood there. After a moment, Ainsley pulled away self-consciously.

The snow had started to fall in thicker clumps, and Dan's dark hair was flecked with white. Ainsley had never been the type to kiss on impulse. In the year she had known Dan, they had gotten to know each other pretty well. Ainsley knew what he was thinking before he did half the time, and she could read him easily. Now, however, she was as confused as the day she met him. The expression on his face was blank.

"Ainsley," he whispered, eyes suddenly searching her face. His tone made her heart ache. It had hardly been more than a sigh, and was tinged with confusion. After a second of silence, his chocolate orbs flicking between Ainsley's own grey ones, he leaned in fractionally, and before she knew it, his lips connected with hers yet again.

If Ainsley's brain hadn't been turned to mush by the original kiss, she still would have had no idea what to expect. She hadn't even known she had wanted to kiss Dan before the prior minute. She hadn't even seen Dan in a romantic light before Christmas. Dan had just been a friend of hers, her best friend. Nothing, not even getting her job or graduating from university, could compare to the feeling of Dan kissing her back. His slightly chapped lips moving against hers. The way she could feel his fringe tickling her cheek. Nothing could have prepared her for that moment.

Suddenly, she couldn't feel the cold. She couldn't feel the icy flakes hitting her face. Her body was warm. She could feel Dan's body heat through her coat. Despite this newfound warmth, her skin tingled as his hand fluttered to her neck, gently cradling her head, his fingers tangling themselves in her mahogany hair.

Too soon, he was pulling away, leaving her breathless. His eyes met hers. Ainsley blinked slowly. She was having trouble clearing her mind. She took a deep breath, both to un-cloud her head and steady her pulse. He rested his forehead against hers.

"So… good birthday," Ainsley said, smirking.

"Yeah?" She began to hum '22', reflecting back to the Vine video Dan had made on his own birthday. He grinned, interlocking their fingers again. The snowflakes in his eyelashes disappeared as he blinked.

In the distance, Big Ben chimed eleven. The lights of Winter Wonderland slowly twinkled and went out.

The two blocks to Ainsley's flat from the Tube went quickly and silently. The high street in Wimbledon had become a proper snowy wonderland. Dan paused at Ainsley's doorstep. "Would you like to come in?"

He considered it. "No." He shook his head forlornly. "I should probably get back."

Ainsley nodded, inwardly disappointed, unlocking her door. "Well, okay, then. I'll see you tomorrow?" He nodded. "G'night." He kissed her forehead before she entered the darkness of her flat. She shut the door behind her and sunk to the ground.

What the hell had happened?

Whatever _had_ happen, she was confused, but she knew she had enjoyed her birthday.


	9. 31 December

**31 December**

Ainsley sat on her sofa, staring at her laptop and humming 'Auld Lang Syne' to herself. She winced as she typed an email to her mum, pausing every few words to rub her sore wrists. She was used to the pain, her gluten allergy had caused her to have arthritis in almost all of her joints, but this was the worst it had been in a while. She hadn't been bothered by it until then; she had thought the medicines she was taking were working.

When the doorbell rang, Ainsley couldn't bring herself to stand. Her knee was killing her, and she didn't think she could walk on her ankle if she tried. Instead, she called, "It's open!" She figured if it was a murderer on the other side of the door, death would be less painful than what she was feeling in her joints.

The door creaked open, and she could hear the tapping of shoes against the door frame. It hadn't quit snowing since her birthday, and London was now covered in a nice blanket of white. "Happy new year!" Phil cheered, walking into the lounge and brandishing a bottle of champagne.

Ainsley smiled slightly. "Thanks, Phil." Dan appeared in the doorway behind him, and her face fell. She hadn't seen or talked to Dan in four days.

"Hey, Ainsley," greeted Dan sheepishly.

She ignored him, pushing herself off the sofa. She managed to stand, and walked over to Phil, attempting to keep weight off her right leg entirely while also trying not to limp too severely. "I thought you were never coming," she admitted to Phil, taking the champagne from him. "I gave up hope half an hour ago."

"It's only ten-thirty!" Phil laughed. "You're so overdramatic sometimes."

She punched him playfully, wincing when she turned away, and took the bottle of champagne into the kitchen. "Make yourselves at home," she yelled into the lounge. "Not that I need to tell you that by now. Put in a movie or something. I'll be out in a minute." Ainsley dug around in a cabinet and pulled out a bottle.

"What's that?" Dan's voice behind her made Ainsley jump, causing her to almost drop the bottle.

"Prednisone," she mumbled, attempting to open her desperately needed medication. "That apparently won't fucking open."

Dan took the bottle from her and opened it easily. "You're taking medicine?" She nodded. "For what?"

"Does it matter?" He stared at her, chocolate eyes not comprehending. He looked hurt, which she couldn't stand. "My damn gluten allergy causes joint pain that's apparently turned into bloody arthritis." He nodded slowly, watching as she swallowed a pill and wince at the movement.

"Are you alright?"

"Shouldn't you be somewhere else? Go help Phil pick a movie or something," she commanded coldly. She couldn't help it. She hated being asked if she was alright when she clearly wasn't, and she was still pissed at Dan.

They made eye contact. Ainsley could see the hurt in his eyes, but she continued to glare at him, not wanting to give in. Finally, he turned abruptly and walked out of the kitchen. She waited a few minutes before following him into the lounge.

Phil was staring contemplatively at her shelf of DVDs, tossing a few to Dan for him to choose. After catching the plastic case, Dan would look at the title half-heartedly and set it on a growing pile of discarded films.

"Find anything good?" she asked Phil, who shrugged.

"I dunno. Dan hasn't kept anything out." Ainsley rolled her eyes and moved over cautiously to sit on the floor beside Dan's legs. "Find _When Harry met Sally_."

"What? No!" Phil laughed. "I don't even think you own that. What d'you think: _Pan's Labyrinth _or just video games?"

"If you guys want to play something, then play it."

"Don't you want to?" She shook her head. "Then we'll watch a movie."

"I'm not in the mood."

He looked at her strangely. Ainsley could understand why. She was never not in the mood for a movie, and she always wanted to play video games. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She smiled.

"You sure?" He sat on the floor beside her. "You seem a bit off." Phil placed a hand on her knee. Immediately, Ainsley recoiled, hissing in pain. "What? Oh God, did I hurt you?"

"No, Phil. You're fine," she mumbled through gritted teeth. "Just… put a game in, yeah? I'll play. Just don't make it anything too movement intense."

He nodded and selected two games. "_Karaoke Revolution_," he announced, turning on Ainsley's Play Station and inserting the disc. "Then, maybe some _Assassin's Creed_ if you feel up to it?" Ainsley shrugged, wincing. "We'll see." Phil smiled, passing out the microphone controllers to Dan and Ainsley. "Who wants to go first?" Phil's blue eyes went between Dan and Ainsley expectantly. Ainsley was sitting stiffly on the ground, attempting not to wince as she fumbled the microphone around in her hands awkwardly. Dan had pushed himself so far against the plush arm of the sofa there was three inches of air between Ainsley's shoulder and his leg. Normally, she would have been sitting between his legs, Dan playing with Ainsley's hair. Phil picked up on the tension between them, clearing his throat. "Ainsley! Go first!" She groaned as he selected the song he wanted her to sing. "Please?" he begged. She rolled her eyes and he queued it.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers," she sang, trying to ignore the pain in her protesting fingers as she gripped the microphone. "Singing my life with his words. Killing me softly with his song." She heard Dan sigh beside her. "Killing me softly with his songs. Telling my whole life with his words. Killing me softly with his songs." As the beat dropped, she lowered the mic. Normally, she would have danced to the beat, but her knee was protesting being bent, and her elbow had started to pain her as well. She felt old, even though her twenty-second birthday had only been four days before.

Gently, she eased herself up and onto the sofa beside Dan. She didn't care if he was still upset or not. Easing her pain mattered more to her in that moment. "I heard he sang a good song. I heard he had a style. And so, I came to see him and listen for a while. And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes. Strumming my pain with his fingers. Singing my life with his words." Ainsley massaged her wrist with her left hand, attempting to relieve the pain that was now almost constant. "Killing me softly with his song. Killing me softly with his songs." She almost considered telling Phil she didn't want to play anymore, but she bit her tongue. This was nothing new. Soon, the pain would subside and she would be fine again. "Telling my whole life with his words. Killing me softly with his songs."

Ainsley pushed the microphone into her left hand and used her right to massage her wrist. "I felt all flushed with fever. Embarrassed by the crowd. I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud. But he just kept right on strumming my pain with his fingers." By now, her massaging wasn't working, and she gave up. "Singing my life with his words." She got lost in the words as the chorus repeated three more times, putting her brain on autopilot and attempting to make herself more comfortable.

When the song ended, she dropped the controller into her lap and sighed, rubbing her elbow. "Well, that was unpleasant."

Phil ignored her and turned to Dan. "Do you want to pick the song?"

"What?" Ainsley protested. "He gets to pick, yet I don't? That's fair."

Again, Phil ignored her, staring intently at Dan, who shrugged, reaching for the controller. Ainsley sighed and leaned back into the plush sofa, trying to concentrate on anything but Dan's song choice or the pain that was slowly starting to worsen. She vaguely noticed the song's intro—guitar and saxophone—but the song itself didn't register in her mind until after Dan began to sing.

"The strands in your eyes that colour them wonderful, stop me and steal my breath. And emeralds from mountains thrust toward the sky, never revealing their depth." Ainsley could almost feel Dan's eyes boring into the side of her face, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Instead, she massaged her elbow. "And tell me that we belong together, and dress it up with the trappings of love. I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above."

He was slowly moving closer to her, but Ainsley didn't think it was on purpose. He sat properly, instead of pushed into the sofa cushions, and his leg was less than an inch from hers. "And I'll be your crying shoulder. I'll be love's suicide. I'll be better when I'm older. I'll be the greatest fan of your life."


	10. 31 December, Late Night

**31 December**

Ainsley had no idea why, but after Dan finished singing, the tension between them had lifted considerably. So much so, in fact, that she was now leaning heavily on him as he led her to the kitchen.

"At least let me get you some aspirin," he protested, practically picking Ainsley up and sitting her on the counter. Dan opened a cupboard beside the refrigerator.

"It won't help. Nothing helps," she complained, rubbing her wrists. "I just have to wait for it to stop hurting."

"There has to be something. Don't you have braces? Anything?"

She shook her head. "It's never been this bad." Ainsley raised a hand, pointing to a drawer and wincing at the movement. "There's an elastic bandage in there. I can wrap my knee at least." Dan shook his head, beginning to wrap the elastic cloth around her knee. "Dan, I can do this myself. I'm in pain, not dead."

He rolled his chocolate eyes. "You're in so much pain you can hardly walk. You can't wave without wincing. You couldn't even hold the microphone." She opened her mouth. "Ainsley, love, shut up." After her knee was wrapped, Dan grabbed her wrist and began to rub it.

"What are you-"

"Shut up," he repeated, rotating and bending her wrist forward and backward, up and down. "Tell me if this hurts, yeah? I don't know what I'm doing."

After a few seconds, Ainsley had to admit she felt a bit better. Perhaps, a tiny voice in her head suggested, it was the warm feeling she got as Dan gently rubbed circles into her wrists and hands, massaging her pained joints. His fingers gently moved to hers, twisting and pulling on each individual digit. Ainsley's eyes fluttered shut and she breathed deeply, relishing the feeling of slight relief flowing through her joints.

"Am I hurting you?" questioned Dan worriedly. She shook her head, immediately regretting the movement.

From the living room, Phil yelled. "Is everything alright in there?"

"Yeah, it's great." Dan sighed and whispered to Ainsley. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah. This used to happen all the time."

"It's almost midnight, guys! Come on!" Phil called.

Dan groaned. "We should probably go back in," Ainsley whispered.

"What time is it?"

"Two minutes to midnight."

Again, he groaned. Dan took a step back and held out his hands. Ainsley took them and he helped her slide off the counter gently.

As they got back to the lounge, the countdown began from sixty and _Auld Lang Syne_ began to blast through the television. Phil reached for her and Ainsley took his hand, Dan's arm still around her waist.

About halfway through the song, the pain in Ainsley's wrists returned, even worse than they had been before. If Dan hadn't been supporting her, Ainsley felt like she would fall over. She didn't trust herself to move. As the clock struck midnight, she barely registered Dan's lips pressed against her temple. Her wrists felt like someone was hitting them with a hundred tiny hammers.

After the celebration was over, Ainsley slowly lowered herself into the sofa. A look of concern crossed Dan's face.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm fine. Honestly. It's just my wrists again." Dan stared at her for a moment before stalking out of the room. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be back." Ainsley heard the front door close roughly.


	11. 1 January

**1 January**

Ainsley sat on her sofa curled in a ball and clutching a pillow, wanting more than anything just to cut off her wrists. Dan had left more than two hours ago. For the first hour, Phil had been polite. He asked her what was wrong, and attempted to ease her pain as much as possible. But eventually, Phil had gotten tired. He rarely went to sleep after one o'clock, and Ainsley could see in his eyes that he wanted to go to bed. She had sent him to her room an hour ago, and she could hear him preparing his usual spot between her desk and wall.

So, Ainsley sat alone on her sofa. The apartment was quiet, but she was accustomed to it. She had instructed Phil to turn the lights off when he went out, and now she sat in a semi-darkness, the only light coming from the episode of _The Great British Bake Off_ she had DVR'd a month ago.

Ainsley was starting to worry about Dan. Sure, London itself was extremely safe at night, but the underground was a different story. Several times, Ainsley had thought about texting him to make sure he was alive, but not only could she not walk halfway across the room to get her phone, she couldn't move her fingers enough to grip it, let alone type a coherent message. Thus, she sat, mindlessly staring at _The Bake Off_, thinking about the worst case scenarios Dan could be getting himself into. She even considered praying, both for Dan and for her own pain, though she wasn't religious in the slightest.

Ainsley heard the door creak open lightly and a few soft taps before the door shut again. There was the sound of a bag rustling and then soft, padded footsteps from the entryway, through the hallway.

"Hey," Dan whispered, entering the lounge and sitting on the sofa beside her.

"Hey." Ainsley smiled, pausing the BBC Two programme.

"Where's Phil?"

"Asleep." Dan grabbed one of her hands, beginning to rub her wrist again. "Where'd you run off to?"

"Just… out." He smiled, nodding toward the bags he had brought back. "Needed a few things."

"Oh?" Ainsley winced as Dan's fingers dug into her wrist. The hammers had become worse, instead of alleviating as they did before. Even the warm feeling she normally got when Dan barely brushed against her was doing nothing to soothe her pain. "Dan, this isn't helping."

He nodded, cradling her hand in his own as he reached into the plastic bag. Dan pulled out two boxes. In the low light, Ainsley could barely make out the image of a hand wrapped in black cloth on the front panels.

"Oh, Dan, you didn't."

"What did you expect me to do? Sit around and watch you in pain?" Gently, he sat her hand down on his knee so he could open one of the boxes.

Ainsley stared at his hands as he meticulously pulled out the wrist support and unfolded it. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning on an international holiday. Dan must have gone all around London trying to find shops that were open. Her eyes moved from Dan messing with the brace to her swollen wrists. They were twice their normal size, and Ainsley hated it. Not only was she in pain, the swelling crippled her ability to move. Seconds later, both of her wrists were covered in the stretchy black cloth and Dan had moved to massaging her fingers.

Finally starting to feel some relief, Ainsley allowed herself to concentrate on something other than her pain. Dan was always so kind when she needed him to be, which is why, she supposed, he was one of her best friends. When they first met, he had been the most loving and soft-hearted person she had ever met. Now, he was sarcastic and stubborn, but there were times when Ainsley could see hints of compassion and sympathy. Yes, Dan was kind to everyone, but to his friends, he was calmly sarcastic more than constantly sympathetic.

"Ainsley?" Dan's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Did you even hear a word I said?" She stared at him blankly, and he chuckled. "Do you mind turning on _Bake Off_? I missed this episode."

She rolled her eyes and groped for the remote. The knuckles on her right hand were so swollen she could barely pick up the remote. Ainsley attempted to hit the play button, but couldn't bend her finger enough to put enough pressure on it. After three fruitless attempts, Dan took pity on her and gently took the remote out of her grasp, starting the episode from the beginning and setting the remote back on the coffee table. Dan's attention was devoted wholly to the baking show, but he continued to massage Ainsley's fingers subconsciously.

At a break in the show, Dan turned to her. "Are you tired?"

Ainsley shook her head. "I'm not well tired. Just a bit."

He nodded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him. "I would be exhausted."

Her head rested against his shoulder gently. Always having to do something with his hands, Dan absent-mindedly played with her mahogany hair, pulling it away from her head, then smoothing it down. Not minding the contact, she said nothing. Ainsley was comfortable; she hardly moved, even after _The Great British Bake Off _ended and Dan played an old episode of _Breaking Bad_.

Halfway through a monologue by Bryan Cranston, Ainsley could feel Dan looking at her. She ignored it. He loved watching the reactions of those he was watching television with. When it continued, though, she turned to him. "What?"

"How do you feel?"

"I feel fine, Dan." She went back to the television.

Dan, however, did not. "Are you sure? I mean, your wrist is literally twice its normal size."

"I'm fine, Dan," she repeated. "The braces help a lot."

"That's good."

Ainsley could tell he didn't want to talk about her pain at all. "Is there something on your mind, Dan?"

After a second of pause, he muted the television. "Can we talk?"


	12. 1 January, Early Morning

**1 January**

Ainsley pushed herself off Dan and moved to the other end of the couch, sitting so that she was facing him. "Bien sûr." She had no idea why she spoke in French. She did it subconsciously, out of habit, having taken six years of French in high school and three at university. Normally, Dan didn't mind it, he had taken two years of the language himself, but he glared at her, seemingly perturbed at her. Confused, Ainsley looked away. "Alright. What's up?" she questioned softly.

Dan remained silent, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. Ainsley could see he was thinking about something, his chocolate eyes were clouded with preoccupation. "Have you ever wanted to do something, even though every fibre of your being tells you not to?" he questioned finally, his eyes searching her own. She stared at him, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, he continued. "Like, you _want_ to do something, and your heart tells you to go ahead and do it. But then logic decides to step in and all of a sudden, you're aware of every tiny possibility that could go wrong." Ainsley nodded slowly, still not knowing what to say but understanding what he was talking about. Dan ruffled his hair. "That's sort of what's happening to me now."

"Dan, what are you talking about?"

He sighed and looked at her through his dark eyelashes. He was clearly conflicted, that much Ainsley could tell. Before she knew it, he had moved. Now sat on the middle cushion of the sofa, Dan had scooted closer in the blink of an eye. Dan's expression was intense, almost threatening, something Ainsley never thought she would see in her best friend. Unsure, she glanced to the television. Walt was in the middle of his chemistry classroom, giving a lecture. In one part of her mind, she wished Dan hadn't muted the show—this was a good episode.

She saw Dan moving again out of the corner of her eye; when she turned back to him, she was shocked. Dan connected to her firmly, her bottom lip captured sensually between his two pink ones. Ainsley's eyes fluttered closed instinctively, and her hand raised, only to drop back into her lap again. The bond broke as quickly as it had formed, and Ainsley was left speechless. Dan had retreated back to the opposite end of the sofa. It was as if nothing had happened.

"Okay, what the hell?" Ainsley questioned finally, feeling herself grow frustrated. "What the hell was that for?" Dan looked at her, and she could see the lingering confusion and conflict in his chocolate eyes. She felt badly, but she continued. "And while we're on the subject, what the hell is this 'kiss me in the park, then not talk to me for four days' shit you're on about? It isn't like you, Dan."

Dan unmuted the television right in the middle of an argument between Jesse and Walt. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I needed time to think."

"Think?" Ainsley raised an eyebrow incredulously. "What the hell did you need to think about for _four days_?"

"Well…" he trailed off, staring at a spot beside his foot.

"Dan, what I don't think you realise is, kiss or no, I spent the best birthday of my life this year with you." He still refused to look at her. "Sure, I had some pretty kick ass parties as a child, but Jesus, this one was so much better. Do you want to know why?" Dan said nothing, but she continued anyway. "Because I got to spend it with the people I love most."

Ainsley could see his brow knit in confusion. "It was just me."

"I know what I said." This brought his eyes to her. Chocolate met steel, and in that second, Ainsley could see several thousand emotions in Dan's eyes.

He held her gaze for what seemed like minutes. "When I met you," Dan started at a barely audible whisper. "I knew you would be special to me. You understood me in a way no one ever does in a matter of minutes." As he continued to speak, the words seemed to tumble from his lips, increasing in volume ever so slightly. "The way your eyes smile when you started speaking about what you love… it made my heart smile, for lack of a better word, in a way I've never experienced before, and a way that I experience every day since. And then, after a bit, I saw you do the thing you loved—acting, and editing—I saw you work and I saw how honest you were about it, and how good you were, and I fell in love with you in that moment in a way I never fell for anyone before. I fell in love with your happiness and your joy. Whenever I think of love I think of you." He paused for breath. "I'm really sorry we haven't talked. I wasn't avoiding you, I was avoiding saying all this and ruining what we've got. I've heard of so many great friendships getting bloody well demolished from idiots saying some stupid shit like what I just blurted out. I'm a fucking moron."

"Dan, what-"

Dan continued, not allowing Ainsley to finish her sentence. "But between you and me, in this… this thing… that we've got going, I've never known anything less than bliss."


	13. 1 January, Early Morning Cont

**1 January**

Ainsley stared at Dan staring at the floor. She had no idea what to say. Her brain hadn't fully processed what he had said, and she wasn't particularly sure what he was expecting. He had said he loved her, for that much she was certain, but after that, most of his words had blurred together. "That's the gayest thing you've ever said to me," she joked softly, moving closer to him again.

"Yes, well…" Whatever Dan was going to say next was cut off by Ainsley's lips pressed to his. He responded almost immediately, his soft lips moving in time with her own. Ainsley could feel his heart beating a driving rhythm into his chest and smiled. She was the one causing that pounding, fluttering heartbeat. Ainsley had to admit she liked it. Yet again, she found she was warmed by Dan's touch, his hand at the small of her back seemingly radiating heat like a bonfire.

He bit down on her bottom lip roughly, following quickly with his tongue, tracing lightly across the now rough and tender area. Ainsley hadn't realized he was pushing her backward until she felt her back hit the sofa cushions and he was hovering over her, using his right hand to support himself while his left rested just below her ear, his fingers tangled in her mahogany hair, this thumb ghosting circles into her flesh.

"Ainsley?" The groggy voice of Phil in the lounge doorway caused Dan to jump, his mouth clamping shut on her bottom lip instinctively.

Ainsley could taste blood. "What Phil?"

"I heard voices. Is Dan back?"

"Yeah, Phil, I'm here," Dan's voice was hollow, and he sat up to look at his friend. "Go back to sleep, yeah?"

Phil mumbled something incoherent and Ainsley heard him padding away. Dan groaned and leaned into the back of the sofa, pulling Ainsley's legs into his lap. "Sometimes I hate living with people."

She gingerly touched her lip. It had stopped bleeding. "No you don't."

Dan rolled his eyes and turned up the television volume. Growing increasingly uncomfortable with her neck on the arm of the sofa, Ainsley wiggled around, attempting to get comfortable. Eventually, she sat up, turning herself around and laying her head in Dan's lap. His hand moved to her hair immediately, his long fingers folding plaits into her hair subconsciously. The motion soothed her, and she felt herself drifting off.

Ainsley jolted awake to the sound of her phone vibrating violently and falling off the coffee table. Blindly, she scooped it off the floor. "Hello?" She sat up, brushing the plaits out of her hair. "Mum? What's wrong?" She felt Dan stir beside her. "Mum, slow down. What's the matter?"

Immediately, Dan was fully awake. 'What's wrong?' he mouthed, a hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head. "Mum, calm down, okay? What did he say?" Ainsley kept eye contact with Dan as her mother spoke, not trusting herself to look away. "Mum, what do you want me to do? I'm not there?" She sighed. "I can fly over. No, mum it isn't a problem. I'll find a way to make it work, mum. I don't need half the shit I buy online. Yeah, I mean, financially, yes, but… yes, mum. I know. And it isn't like I don't have a job, mum. I start soon. Yes, dear."

"What?" whispered Dan, confusion evident in his eyes.

She waved him off. "Mum, I want to, and no, I will not stay here, thousands of miles away while… Oh, I know. Goodbye, mum… Yeah, a few days." Ainsley sat her phone back on the table and threw herself into the back of the sofa.

"What's up?" Dan inquired softly, wrapping an arm around Ainsley's shoulders.

"I have to go to America," she responded blankly.


	14. 7 January

**7 January**

It was cold. No amount of fluffy blankets could hide the fact that despite the radiator blasting hot, stuffy air into the room, Ainsley was freezing. For three days, she had spent the night in the hospital, yet her father was still too unwell for her to see. The fold-out sofa bed in the family lounge was uncomfortable; Ainsley spent her nights surfing the hospital's cheap cable for interesting infomercials, shifting every so often to allow blood flow to her lower back, and trying to ignore the fact that beside her, Dan had fallen asleep almost promptly.

He had insisted on coming with her, playing what he called 'the best-friend card,' and claiming his right to accompany her on any and all family emergencies in foreign countries. And, as much as she would complain about him being there to his face, she secretly appreciated his presence. While she wasn't the open book of emotions that her mother was, Ainsley needed Dan there just as much as he wanted to be there. She was strong, but he was stronger, always willing to listen or chat. In times of trouble, Dan always knew how to get her mind off the truly pressing matters for even a few minutes, doing something stupid like purposefully tripping over a chair, or saying something overly profound, just to make her smile.

Luckily, Ainsley and her mother had worked out a system: Ainsley and Dan would spend the night, just in case something were to happen, and Ainsley's mother would stay during the day, so that Ainsley could go home and get a proper rest. Unfortunately, this meant that Ainsley hardly got to see her mother, except in passing, a situation that was less than ideal. Her mother had never met Dan, and Ainsley had been excited for them to meet, purposefully keeping them apart until the right time. The two had similar senses of humour, and Ainsley wanted to see them interact for the first time. But after a brief meeting in the hospital lobby, to her mother, Dan was just the guy that Ainsley may or may not be dating. They hadn't had time to hash out the exact details of their relationship to her mother.

Not that Ainsley knew the exact details of her relationship with Dan, as neither she nor Dan talked about his little confessional at the start of the new year. Their friendship had changed palpably, that much she could tell, but Ainsley wasn't certain whether it had been for better or worse. She supposed the fact that he had forcibly paid for her airplane ticket was a good sign for the positive, but the fact that he told the men at the United States Embassy they were engaged when Ainsley went to see about an expedited permission to enter the country only added to her confusion.

Bored with the television, Ainsley turned the volume down low and pulled her stuffed penguin closer to her. It seemed like eons since Dan had won it for her at Winter Wonderland. A chill wracked her body, and Ainsley snuggled closer to Dan for warmth. Though asleep, he responded immediately, a long arm snaking its way around her waist, drawing her closer to him. Ainsley sighed, taking in his scent. It was musky and smelled of the woods, something she found extremely ironic, as Dan hardly left the house, let alone travelled through the woods. She felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness to the low sounds of a 1980s ballad CD collection being advertised on the television.

_Sitting alone at a table set for two, Ainsley felt awkward. Around her, couples dined, laughing gaily, while she stared at the empty chair across from her. He was late, something she wasn't necessarily shocked about—he was always late—but she had hoped that this time would be different. She had hoped this almost-date meant something to him._

"_Ainsley, I am so sorry," Dan mumbled, finally coming to occupy the second chair. "They held me up longer than I thought."_

"_Those damn American bastards," she whispered softly, failing at trying to make a joke. "What is BBC doing with their American network?"_

_He chuckled half-heartedly, ordering some sort of alcoholic beverage from the waiter. "Were you here long?"_

"_Only fifteen minutes," she lied. "Maybe half an hour."_

_Naturally, he saw through her. He knew her too well. "An hour, eh?"_

"_No big deal."_

"_It is a big deal. This was a celebration, and I had to go and be a twat and schedule a meeting." Dan sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry. This was your day, and I fucked it up."_

"_Yeah, well…" Ainsley trailed off, swirling her glass of chardonnay between her fingers._

_Dan sighed, collapsing back into his chair, readjusting his suit jacket as he did so. Not bothering to pay attention to him when he had first arrived, Ainsley finally noticed his outfit. She hadn't been expecting him to be wearing his suit jacket with the leather lapels over a crisp white shirt, or his skinny leather tie to be hanging around his neck. Awkwardly, she pushed her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose; Ainsley had not felt like struggling with contacts that morning, and, instead, had donned her thick-framed plastic glasses._

"_I like your jacket." Dan motioned to the leather jacket over her blue, knee-length dress. "Sort of…"_

"_Matches," Ainsley finished, indicating his tie and suit jacket._

"_Yeah…" he trailed off, taking a sip of his drink. "You look nice."_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah. You should wear your glasses more. You look sort of like a sexy librarian." Ainsley rolled her eyes. "I'm serious."_

"_Thanks, I guess." She sighed, unsure whether she was angry with Dan for being late, or just frustrated that they had regressed to mundane, basic conversation._

"_You still wear it?" Dan's voice jolted her out of her thoughts._

"_What?" Ainsley had heard him perfectly; she understood the words he spoke perfectly. No, it was the tone of his voice that had her confused. His normally silky voice was almost pained, and she wanted to know why._

_He nodded at her wrist. "The bracelet. I didn't think you wore it anymore."_

_Ainsley glanced down. The gold circlet Dan had given her for Christmas was wrapped gracefully around her wrist. She had been playing with it. If Ainsley was honest with herself, she hadn't been wearing the bracelet recently. She told herself that it was delicate and she didn't want to break it, but in all actuality, she didn't necessarily _want_ to wear it. It reminded her of the time when she and Dan were best friends—_only_ best friends—and not the awkward grey area that they currently resided in. She hadn't an inkling of an idea why she had put the bangle on that morning. "Yeah, I wear it," she lied, attempting to save Dan's feelings. Internally, Ainsley sighed. She couldn't even read Dan anymore. They were drifting so far apart that it seemed as though they were on two completely different continents._

_Around them, the air became palpably tense. Ainsley was reminded of her years of high school and university, where she was often referred to as 'the awkward girl,' because she had no idea how to engage others in conversation, and no one bothered to talk to her. She assumed Dan was having similar flashbacks; he was even more painfully socially awkward than she was._

"_Ainsley, I think we really need to talk," Dan blurted quickly. "Can we talk?"_

"_Yeah, Dan, of course."_

"Ainsley?" Her eyes popped open. After a second, they began to focus, and Dan's chocolate eyes became clear in front of her. With regret, Ainsley realized she slept with her contacts in. "Your mum's here. D'you want to leave now?"

"Mum's here?"

"Yeah, she went to get coffee. Said she'd 'be back in a pip'." Ainsley couldn't help but chuckle at Dan's imitation of her mother's posh way of speaking. She only ever spoke like that in public places, forcing her diction to the extreme and saying words like 'pip' and 'cheerio'. Dan smiled, messing Ainsley's hair up with his left hand. "Come on. We should go."

Ainsley groaned and rubbed at her eyes. Her contacts were dry, and she would definitely have to wear her glasses to drive back to her parents' house. Groping in her bag for her contact case, Ainsley sighed. "Did mum say if the Doctor said anything?"

"Nothing."

Ainsley poked her eye, pulling out her contacts. "Of course not. Hand me that jumper?" She pointed at the blue, grey, and cream striped jumper she had draped over the back of a hard-backed chair the night before.

"How are you not cold?" questioned Dan, his eyes wandering over her camisole-clad figure as he tossed her jumper across the room. "It's like -15 degrees in here!"

She rolled her eyes, ignoring him. He knew the answer to his own question. She slept in camisoles and tank-tops because of _him_; Dan was a very warm person, and had she worn her jumpers during the night, she would die of heat stroke. Ainsley shoved her thick-framed glasses onto her face. "Jesus, how long does it take to get coffee?"

"Well, I had to walk to Columbia to pick the beans." Ainsley hadn't noticed her mother enter the room. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Get a good sleep, love?" Ainsley nodded. "Dan, you get a good night's sleep?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "For a sofa bed, it's pretty comfortable."

Ainsley's eyes widened, realising what her mother was hinting at. "Mum, what time did you get in this morning?"

"Oh, I don't know, love. Seven?"

"Seven?" Ainsley glanced at the clock on the wall. "Mum, it's nine-thirty!"

The lines on the forty-eight-year-old's face became more defined as she laughed devilishly. Her wavy, greying hair bounced amiably as she attempted to speak through her chuckles. "Oh, you two looked well comfortable. Love a good romance tale."

"Mum!" Ainsley reprimanded, launching a pillow at her mother. She could feel her ears growing hot. "You're mental!"

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Oh, get home, would you?"

Ainsley glowered at her as she picked up her bag. Dan grabbed her coat, holding it up to help her into it, but she shrugged him off. "We will discuss this later," she grumbled.

After a second, her mother replied. "I'm your mum. I should be saying that to you. And let the boy help with your coat. It's bloody well cold out there."

Sighing, Ainsley grabbed Dan's wrist and pulled him out of the room, cutting off anything else her mother was going to say. As she led Dan down the halls of the hospital and into the parking garage, Ainsley didn't look at him. She couldn't even bring herself to glance in his direction. Her cheeks were still burning, and she couldn't help but have a sinking suspicion that her mother was right. She had fallen for Dan. Hard. And it just so happened that he seemed to have fallen for her as well.


	15. 7 January, Afternoon

**7 January**

Warm water rained down from above, mingling with the chill of the air. Clouds of steam rolled through the room lazily. Ainsley sighed, feeling her muscles slowly release their stored tension. She had lost track of how long she had been in the shower, but assumed it was longer than her fifteen-minute average. She didn't care, however, as the warm water contrasted with the frigid, East Coast air in a way that made Ainsley never want to leave, even if the radiator kept the house at a comfortable twenty-one degrees Celsius.

Ainsley found it almost easier to think in the shower, another contributing factor to her longer-than-normal bathroom time. Oftentimes, she thought about her career or the new job she would be starting, but Ainsley found her mind drifting to Dan. She couldn't help it. She was confused, and he did nothing to help her clear anything up.

"Ainsley?" She could barely make out Dan's voice from outside the bathroom cut into her thoughts. He said something else, a string of seven or eight short syllables, but she couldn't quite hear him over the water. She didn't answer, assuming it was probably unimportant and he would go away. After a few seconds, though, he spoke again.

"Dan, I can't understand a word you're saying," Ainsley pointed out. "Just open the damn door."

"What's the Wi-Fi password?" Dan's voice was louder. She could almost picture him leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, staring at a spot on the marble floor.

"Batman91." Dan's howling laugh drowned out the sound of the falling water. "I'm being completely serious."

Soon, his chortles died down, and the only sound was the shower once again. "Do you want to Skype Phil later?"

"If you make sure he's going to be awake, we can, yeah."

"Do you want to watch a film before that?" Ainsley didn't need to answer. He already knew what she was going to say. "I'll go get the crisps, then."

Ainsley sighed, running a hand through her half-damp hair. If she was honest with herself, she had only agreed to watch _Friday the 13th_ because it was one of Dan's favourite classic horror films. By far, there were worse films to watch, but Ainsley thought this one boring, and a bit too melodramatic. It took itself too seriously, with its iconic frontman and its convoluted plots—Ainsley would never understand the decision to move from Camp Crystal Lake to Manhattan. _Paranormal Activity_ seemed like the better choice, but Dan had wanted to watch _Friday the 13th._

Ainsley sighed, attempting to find ways to amuse herself. She had already mentally made fun of all the stereotypical female counsellors. They had all since died. Mindlessly, Ainsley dug her hand into the bag of popcorn Dan had made her. She stared at the abnormally-shaped kernel for a moment before flicking it directly at Dan's nose. It soared passed with centimetres to spare. Ainsley smirked. She had found her new game.

Fifteen minutes into Ainsley's game of 'Throw Popcorn at Dan so That It Almost Touches His Nose', she could tell Dan was trying not to turn and yell at her. He loved watching films. He loved watching films with other people. He did not, however, love watching films with other people that were going to detract from the content. Ainsley could tell she was dancing dangerously close to this line. He wasn't afraid to shush people in the cinema; she was curious to see how he would deter her from ruining the last half-hour of the film.

His long, slender fingers wrapped around her wrist before she could let another kernel fly. She winced slightly, her joints still tender from the New Year's incident. "Do you mind?" Dan's eyes were still on the screen.

"Not at all." She smirked. "Do you?"

Dan's eyes closed to slits and she could see him glare at her out of the corners of his eyes. "If you didn't want to watch this particular film, why didn't you say?"

Ainsley paused. She wasn't ready to admit she had agreed solely so she could sneak glances at him concentrating on the film. Instead, Ainsley ignored his question. "What do you want for dinner? I'm thinking Thai. Or Indian. Or pizza. Or Indian pizza from Thailand."

The wheels began to turn in Dan's head. His eyes squeezed shut and he exhaled sharply, flexing his fingers as he did so. Calmly and without looking, he turned off the DVD player. Ainsley stared at him in shock. The film had another twenty minutes to go. After a second, he turned toward her, his chocolate eyes meeting with her steel ones. "How are you not freaking out about your dad right now? I would be in the foetal position in a corner somewhere."

"He's going to be fine." Her voice was soft. Dan stared at her, urging her to explain her thought process. Ainsley knew why she was so calm: she refused to be anything but calm. If she allowed herself to admit that there was any possibility that her father wouldn't be healthy again by the end of the whole ordeal, she would be admitting that there was a possibility that she could lose her father. She refused to do that. "Mind over matter, my dear Daniel," she whispered. "If I believe that everything is going to be fine, then everything is going to be fine."

"We need to get you out of the house." Dan smirked, pulling her into his side. "You're starting to speak like a fortune cookie."

She felt his lips brush against her hair gently. "Tomorrow, we're going on an adventure."


End file.
